


A Batter Experience

by Myheadisclear



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Comment Fic, Dean Winchester - Freeform, Gen, Prompt Fic, Sam Winchester - Freeform, Spoilers included, Supernatural - Freeform, live journal, making breakfast, men of letter, season 13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 13:08:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20026339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myheadisclear/pseuds/Myheadisclear
Summary: "The one where Sam ends up covered in batter because pancakes arenothis forte"





	A Batter Experience

**Author's Note:**

  * For [millygal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/millygal/gifts).

> I wrote this ages ago and realised today I hadn't uploaded it here, so made some edits and voilà!  
This was a comment fic. Just LJ silliness really. Based on events taking place in season 13. Some Spoilers May Occur. Thank you Millygal for the prompt!

Eggs, flour and milk. The essential elements for creating the perfect breakfast. It had been a hell of a long since they'd eaten anything home-made. Their typical routine was to snatch up a cheeseburger or a supply of shoddy nourishments which often included, amongst other things: Cheetos, ding-dongs or pie, on route to a case or returning home. 

After their mom and Jack; the Nephelium, vanished, all leads had evaporated and even cases were rare. It was suspiciously quiet these days. Without any vampires, werewolves or demons to kill, Dean invested more energy in the local pub, drowning his sorrows in the base of a shot glass, than he did inside the Men of Letters.

Sam recalled a segment of his so-called miserable childhood. He remembered a time when he was happy; a time when his dad had arrived home from work - a hunt. He'd wake Dean and Sam, and they'd lounge around the breakfast bar eating a 'big ole stack of pancakes' (as his dad liked to call it). Sam had been much too young at that point to comprehend what precisely his dad did for work. Nevertheless, he could have cared less. He just minded that his father was home and they were a family again. 

Pouring the flour, milk into the blender (it was all he could find in the cupboards), he broke the eggs and included them unconsciously dropping bits of shell in with the yoke. Rubbing his hands together with an enchanting smile - he was reduced to a state of childlike humility, attempting to gain his older brother's approval. 

Precisely how hard could this be? 

After watching his dad do this several times, he was sure he could make similar mouth-watering breakfast pancakes fit for a lord. 

While Dean was still in bed, dozing off the aftereffect of the liquor, it wouldn't be long before he was alert and most likely hungry as well. In any event, he could eat something with some sustenance. As Dad consistently used to say, 'breakfast was the most significant meal of the day'.

In any case, before Sam could respond, all his efforts went to hell in a handbasket. 

He stared at the unbalanced machine humming and whirring as if possessed. regurgitating surges of a dark like substance covering the counters, the floor and cupboard doors. No surface appeared to go unscathed, including Sam. 

The consequent recognition had kicked in, seconds too late when he jumped forward toward the counter attempting to hit the switch. His feet slipped along the floor one leg going one way the other going in the opposite direction. In his desperate quest for something to clutch to, his arms thrashed around. By then it was past the point of no return. He landed on his back - the wind knocked out of him - with a pathetic whine. 

After a minute, he noticed the silence. The blender was no longer vibrating across the counter. Sam opened his eyes to find Dean overshadowing him, a sardonic grin dancing across his face. 

"Whatchya doing there, Sammy?" 

"I... uh...Making breakfast...?" Sam's eyes appeared to belie the resigned tone in which he answered, daring his brother to mock his genuine efforts. 

Dean being Dean, however...he was unable to avoid taking a pop. 

"No doubt. It's just you appear as though you've plunged into Chupacabra fetal membrane." 

"About that...There was a slight hitch with the blender." 

Dean stepped over Sam to the counter. He opened the refrigerator, grabbed a lager and cracked it open, leaving his younger brother to get himself up off the floor. 

Reviewing the chaos, Dean's brow raised as he feigned exacerbation. He ventured towards the blender and found the lid buried under some of the composites. As he raised it, globs of the substance dripped down, causing Dean to toss it back onto the surface, wiping his hands, his nose curled up in disgust. 

"Did you by any chance put the cover on?" 

"I guess pancakes aren't my forte?" Sam said as he sat up and looked around. His chin dropped to his chest once it registered he would be left to do the cleaning up.

"I'll go fetch us some burgers," Dean murmured, unable to refrain from laughing as he passed his brother heading for the exit. 

"Could you get me some pancakes, please?" Sam implored dolefully, reminding Dean of a sad puppy he was unable to deny. As far back as they were kids, Dean needed to assume responsibility for his younger sibling, who was too little to comprehend why their father was always away.


End file.
